


The Burden of Leadership

by respoftw



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Established Relationship, Humour, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 07:14:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14232066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respoftw/pseuds/respoftw
Summary: Rodney learns what it is to be a true leader.





	The Burden of Leadership

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brumeier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/gifts).



> Happy Birthday Bru! 
> 
> (I’m sorry)

Elizabeth’s chair was just as comfortable as Rodney had always imagined it to be, or at least it would be once Rodney had managed to reshape the grooves in the seat to the wider, rounder imprint of his own ass.

He shifted in the seat, wiggling his ass to measure just how much wear was needed to achieve optimum levels of comfort and was seriously considering lifting his feet to rest them on Elizabeth’s desk when Major Sheppard walked in.

“Don’t get too comfortable, McKay. She’ll only be gone for six weeks.”

“Six weeks and _three days,_ ” Rodney corrected. Those extra three days in charge were very important to him. Did John not understand what Rodney could get done in just one day? Those extra three days were enough for him to completely redesign the structure of Atlantis. “And that’s assuming that nothing goes wrong,” he continued. “When was the last time that happened?”

“Careful,” John drawled, “it almost sounds like you want something bad to happen to Elizabeth. I know they saw that power corrupts but I thought you might have held up a little longer than two hours.”

Rodney grinned. “Ha, so you _do_ agree I have power. So much for your assertion that I was just keeping the seat warm.”

John groaned in answer but it was too late, he’d admitted it. Rodney was in charge of the entire Expedition for the next six weeks and three days and, despite what John had claimed at the last staff meeting, that included being in charge of John.

Heat started to pool in Rodney’s belly at the thought of ordering John about and he could tell that John noticed the direction his thoughts were taking by the way that the tips of his ears flushed red. John crossed his bare arms, causing the black t-shirt he was wearing to stretch over his chest.

“Watch it, Rodney,” he warned. “Get your thoughts out of the gutter.”

“You know, I’ve always thought your uniform t-shirt was too loose,” Rodney mused. “It’s unsafe, is what it is. All that loose material that could catch on something when we’re off world and slow us down. I think something a bit tighter might be better.”

Not wanting to get into it while Chuck sat eavesdropping a few feet away, John made a rude gesture with his middle finger and walked out of Elizabeth’s – _Rodney’s_ – office.

Rodney grinned. He’d pay for that tonight maybe but it was worth it.

The next six weeks and three days were going to be very satisfying indeed.

* * *

 

The next six weeks and two days were going to be hell.

_Everybody_ wanted something from him. If it wasn’t the cooks in the mess hall asking him to approve the weekly menu (and completely disregarding his demands for his favourite foods in the process) it was the anthropologists wanting him to allow them to put on some kind of bizarre dance recital featuring all of the different forms of dancing they’d found in the Pegasus Galaxy.  It wasn’t entirely clear whether they expected Rodney to let unknown, random villagers on to Atlantis or whether the anthropologists would be performing the dances themselves.  He wasn’t entirely sure which idea horrified him more.

And the worst thing was that he couldn’t even shout at them and kick them out of his office. Not if he wanted to prove to the SGC that he could do this job. Rodney knew himself better than most would have thought and he knew he may not have been the best at reading people but it didn’t take a genius to realise that his reputation back on Earth was somewhat less than stellar. He needed to prove that he could do this. And if that meant playing nice with the anthropologists, he would have to play nice with the anthropologists.

The last straw came when Cadman stormed into his office waving a tampon at him.

Rodney let out a manly shriek and scooted his – _Elizabeth’s_ – chair back as far as it would go.

“Oh for – it’s not _used_ , McKay. Man up.” Cadman dropped the offending tampon on Elizabeth’s desk and stood in front of him expectantly.

Gingerly, Rodney moved his chair back closer to the desk but still far enough away that the – the _thing_ – was in no danger of falling onto his lap if it rolled off.

“What can I help you with Captain?” he asked through gritted teeth.

Cadman smiled sweetly. _Too_ sweetly. “You can help me by explaining why we’ve – once again – been lumbered with these substandard sanitary products. These came in yesterday on the Daedalus and just look at them.”

Rodney was trying very hard to avoid doing just that.

“It looks fine to me,” he said. And it did, in the brief second that he glanced at it. It was white and the right shape anyway.  What more was there to it?

Cadman huffed in exasperation and picked the tampon up by its ratty little string and let it dangle. “You’re a scientist, McKay. Let’s carry out an experiment.”

Cadman’s eyes gleamed wickedly as she picked up Rodney’s coffee cup and, before he could even draw first breath on his scream of horror, she dipped the tampon into the cup.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he screeched, aghast at the horror that had just befell his coffee.

“Showing you how these things fall apart when they absorb liquid,” Cadman shouted back. She lifted the sodden and, _ok yes, Rodney would admit it was falling apart like wet toilet paper,_ tampon out of the cup. “Just imagine that this is - - “

Rodney poked his fingers in his ears and started to sing the Canadian national anthem in an effort to block the visual of whatever Cadman was going to ask him to imagine in his head.

Rolling her eyes, Cadman threw the ex-tampon in the waste basket. “You claim to be a genius,” she said when he had finally stopped singing. “Fix this.”

* * *

 

“It was horrible,” Rodney shuddered at the memory and let John pull him closer.

The fact that John wasn’t laughing at him (or, at least, was waiting until he was alone before he did) was going to earn him some serious blow job time later; when Rodney was less traumatised.

“How long until she’s back?” he asked pathetically.

“The shine’s worn off, huh?” John’s voice sounded a little strained but he still wasn’t outright laughing so the blow jobs were still on the table. “Would it help if I wore a tighter t-shirt tomorrow?”

Rodney’s mouth twitched in amusement. “Maybe. And maybe you could cover for me for an hour – six hours top – while I check in on the labs.”

John smiled, rubbing his chin across Rodney’s head. “You know, if you hold off one more day, Kavanagh would be out of the running for winning the pool.”

Rodney sat up, outraged, only just avoiding banging John’s chin with his head. “What?! He didn’t even think I would last two days? That little - - “ Rodney narrowed his eyes as he levelled John with a glare. “What length of time did you pick?”

“Six weeks and three days.” He shrugged at Rodney’s shocked expression. “I figured you’d be good at the whole leadership thing. What are you going to do about the, uh, the thing Cadman raised.”

Rodney waved his hand in the air, dismissing the issue. “Ah, it’s already fixed. I opened up a wormhole and sent the wet tampon through in a box marked for Landry’s attention. They’ve promised better quality products when Elizabeth and the Daedalus return. “

John did laugh then, loud and honking and ok, wow, there was no way he was getting a blow job now, not even if he did wear a tighter t-shirt and - -

“See,” John said when he stopped laughing. “I knew you’d be good at this.”

Ok, maybe blow jobs might still be on the table.

“Great,” Rodney scoffed, even if he was secretly pleased at John’s belief in him. “I can just see it now; maybe ending the sanitary product dispute will win me the Nobel Peace prize.” He sighed. “I don’t think I want Elizabeth’s job. I miss the labs. I hate dealing with people.”

John shrugged again. “That’s ok too. But, hey, you’re still the boss for six more weeks.”

“And one day,” Rodney added.

“And one day,” John agreed. He stretched out on the bed, his back arching as hs muscles stretched and his joints popped. “So, come on, boss. Where do you want me?”

Rodney grinned. Maybe the next six weeks wouldn’t be too bad after all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so, when I saw it was Brumeier’s birthday I really wanted to write her something because she gives me so much enjoyment through her fics and she’s just an all round lovely person. But I only had an hour spare to write today and a lack of inspiration. Then I remembered a comment Bru made a while ago wondering about the tampon situation on Atlantis and then this happened.
> 
> Bru, I’ll understand if you don’t want to be friends with me anymore....

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Experiences in Embarrassing Jack](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14294385) by [Sister_Aurelia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sister_Aurelia/pseuds/Sister_Aurelia)




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